


These Things

by blueabsinthe



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Come Shot, Dirty Talk, M/M, Vancouver Canucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-20
Updated: 2011-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-24 01:11:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueabsinthe/pseuds/blueabsinthe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roberto's feeling pretty low after the trouncing they took in Game 4 versus the Blackhawks. Cory takes his mind off of the loss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Things

**Author's Note:**

> Written during the first round of the 2011 Stanley Cup Playoffs.

When he wakes up it will all have been a bad dream. 

At least that's what he tells himself as he ends his phone conversation with Gina, and places the phone back on its cradle. He can't say he blamed the coaches, really. _It's better than having them get inside your head,_ they had said as he made his way back into the dressing room. 

_Don't let it get you down,_ Cory said as he patted him before skating off towards the posts. 

Really, he had no-one else to blame but himself. And that alone is a painful enough reminder. 

All he wanted to do after the game was finished was to pack up his belongings and hightail it out of the United Centre. But, that would have seemed like running away, and really, honestly, what good would that do. _You have to take it on the chin, get back up and do it again,_ he thought as he endured the reporters, bright lights, and microphones being waved in front of him. 

While the majority of his teammates decided to drown their sorrows in whatever bottle of liquid they could find, he had opted against it all and instead headed straight for his room. He had contemplated attempting to drown himself in the shower, but decided against that, and instead returned Gina's phone call, before all but collapsing on his bed. 

He let out a noise of discontent at the numerous sports channels airing their loss. Each goal being played over and over again is enough for Roberto to viciously turn off the TV, and toss the remote aside in disgust. He figures it's about time to turn in for the night, and makes his way to the bathroom. 

After brushing his teeth, Roberto wipes his hands on a towel, and takes one last look at his reflection, before shutting off the lights. He has barely walked two steps when he hears a knock at his door. 

His red hair looks like liquid fire in the brightness of the hallway lights. 

"What are you doing here?" 

Cory shifts his weight, and stares sheepishly at the carpeted floor. "Wanted to see how you were doing. You kind've booked it out of the arena pretty fast tonight."

"It's not nice to watch people's movements," Roberto says, staring at a spot over Cory's shoulder.

Cory's mouth twitches, a hint of a smile gracing his lips. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say my company isn't wanted."

"It's not that. It's just that -"

"You'd rather be alone, you'd rather drown your sorrows in whatever the mini bar's stocked with. Look, Lu, I get it." Cory kicks his left foot with his right. "I've been wanting to do that myself."

Roberto holds his door open, and sighs in resignation. "You may as well come in."

Cory takes a seat on the edge of the bed, and kicks off his shoes. "Want to talk about it?"

Roberto shrugs, and takes a seat next to Cory. "Not really."

"That's fine. We can just sit here then."

They stay like that for a long time. Cory shifting his eyes stealthily to Roberto, and then back down to his clasped hands. Their position on the bed is one of inviting conversation, but neither seems to want to take the plunge. Eventually, Roberto runs a hand through his hair, before letting his hands settle, palms down on his thighs. 

"We could've swept them."

"Could've, should've, would've," Cory responds. "Would it really have made a difference? Possibly, but what's done is done. We've got to look forward." 

As Roberto moves a hand from his thigh to scratch at his chin, Cory takes it, fingers curling around his wrist, just tight enough that it stills Roberto's movement.

"Look at it this way … we should all take this as a learning experience. We'll learn from it, and we'll come back, stronger and better."

"Like we did in November?"

"Exactly."

Cory is staring directly at Roberto. His eyes like matching blue gems cause Roberto's heart to skip a beat. It's enough to make him pull his hand away, a little rougher than he expected, but he offers Cory a smile that he hopes will make up for his abruptness. 

"Feeling better?" 

Roberto swallows hard, and just shrugs. "Not as bad as I was before, that's for sure." He falls back against the mattress, hand pressed to his forehead and sighs. "I should've known they wouldn't go quietly."

He feels the bed shift slightly as Cory's weight falls against the sheets. "They're not the defending Stanley Cup champions for no reason."

"Yeah."

Roberto turns his head, and finds Cory has turned onto his side and is watching Roberto's movements. Before he can react, Cory has reached a hand out and is pushing a stray hair off his face. Roberto barely has enough time to think about what to do next, when he notices Cory has leaned closer. He blinks, and that's when he feels a slight press of lips against his. 

"What are you doing?" Roberto asks after Cory pulls away slightly.

"What d'you think?"

"Should we? I mean …" Roberto's thoughts were racing by this point. After all, this was all kinds of wrong, and right, but it was hard to think straight when all he really wanted was for Cory to kiss him again. 

"You need this," Cory whispers, pressing his hands against Roberto's shoulders, pinning him to the mattress. "I want this."

Roberto relaxes under Cory's demanding hands, and he stops fighting all together when Cory presses his mouth, hot and wet, and searching against his. His hands run tentatively through Cory's hair at first, almost as if he's sure the fiery red will burn him, before he finds he's gripping his head fiercely. Demanding more. Wanting more. Needing more. 

"How long have you been wanting to do that?" Roberto asks, slightly breathless against Cory's spit-slick mouth, his hands tugging at the hem of Cory's shirt. 

Cory lets Roberto slide his shirt off, and tosses it aside, before his mouth is hovering inches apart from Roberto's. "You really don't want to know, Lu." He sits back on his heels, and gently tugs Roberto up into a sitting position so he can pull his shirt up and off. "What about you? How long have you thought about this?"

Roberto trails a hand down Cory's chest, his fingers tracing over the slight smattering of freckles delineating Cory's arms. "Too long."

Cory laughs lightly, and grinds his hips down against Roberto, which earns him a gasp and a gripping of hands on his hips. "We're so fucking stupid, Lu."

"No offense," Roberto says, "but no shit."

"What exactly do you want, Lu?" Cory asks, pushing hard with one hand against Roberto's chest, until he's lying on the bed. Cory's thighs are tense against Roberto's hips, as he rolls his hips against him. He smirks at the sound Roberto makes, and grins downright devilishly when Roberto's hands feverishly run along his flesh. Cory grabs Roberto's discarded shirt and loops it around Roberto's wrists. "No touching. At least not yet."

Cory's mouth is against Roberto's ear as he leans down, hands braced on Roberto's chest. "I want you to beg me." He licks at the shell of Roberto's ear, before trailing the tip of his tongue down the hollow in the base of Roberto's throat. He can feel the sounds Roberto is making as he does this. He trails a finger down Roberto's chest, his tongue following in its wake. Roberto squirms under Cory's exploration of his body, and arches his hips slightly when Cory reaches the waistband of his boxers. 

"Tell me how you want it," Cory whispers against Roberto's hip bone. "Tell me, Lu." He licks at Roberto's hipbone, listens as Roberto whimpers and fights valiantly at the shirt binding his wrists. "No tongue until you tell me."

"Everything. Fuck, Cory, anything, and everything."

Cory looks up from his spot at Roberto's hip, and raises an eyebrow, his expression unimpressed. "That's the best you've got?" He sits up, hands moving down Roberto's skin and he pulls slightly at the elastic of Roberto's boxers, before he smirks. "Maybe you need a little more" - Cory's hand cups Roberto through his boxers, which earns him a gasp and a wriggling of Roberto's hands against his restraints - "persuasion?"

" _Baiser_ …" Roberto mumbles, and arches into Cory's hand.

"Tell me," Cory whispers, voice husky and full of need. 

"Fuck," Roberto manages to get out, as Cory slides his boxers down his legs. Cory still hasn't touched him, and Roberto's about to lose his mind. "God, _baiser_ … fuck, shit … Cory …"

Cory leans down then, presses his mouth against the curve where Roberto's neck meets shoulder, scrapes his teeth lightly against the flesh. Roberto's struggling against the bindings, fighting for some semblance of control before he goes out of his mind. That's when he feels Cory's hand close around his dick. And, oh, mother of God, that feels good. Cory's hand is gone from his flesh before he can get accustomed to it, and he's about to protest, when he feels Cory finally untying his wrists. 

"I can't have all the fun, now can I?" Cory breathes against Roberto's lips. 

"No. You really can't," Roberto replies, before he's tugging Cory's head towards his. It's a messy clash of tongues, lips, and teeth. The urgency behind the movement is not unwelcome. In fact, it's quite the opposite. Cory kisses like how Roberto suspected he would. Tempered at first, before giving way to a fiery charge that resembles his hair. Roberto has him undressed quickly. Cory shivers against him, and adjusts his hip positioning so their cocks can brush against one another. 

Somehow they end up in a sitting position, Cory biting at Roberto's neck, just hard enough to leave marks. And, when Cory finally curls a hand around Roberto's cock, Roberto lets out a strangled cry, and wraps his arms around Cory's shoulders. Roberto is pliant and yielding in his arms. Sweaty skin pressed against his. 

"So hot," Cory mumbles against Roberto's ear, his hand running up and down Roberto's shaft. "You have no idea how long I've thought about doing this to you. How long I've thought about having you spread out beneath me, as I fuck you with my fingers. How long I've wanted to see you come undone, hearing you beg me to fuck you."

"I'm not begging yet," Roberto chokes out as Cory jerks him hard and fast. He jumps slightly when he feels Cory's thumb ghost to the tip of his cock to spread his pre-come along the rest of his flesh. 

"We'll see." Cory slides off the bed, before he kneels between Roberto's knees, eying Roberto's cock, the tip red and wet. He leans down, tongue curling around the tip of Roberto's cock, flicking at the frenulum which earns him a gasp, a bucking of hips, and Roberto swearing a blue streak in French. 

Cory almost gets lost in it. At the feel of Roberto's cock in his mouth, the gripping of Roberto's fingers on his head, the taste of Roberto. The way Roberto's hips jerk as he slides his mouth down. He almost wishes Roberto would lose it and shove his mouth down onto his cock. He feels Roberto pushing at his head, and he lets his mouth slide off of his cock. 

He presses Roberto back against the sheets, sliding two fingers into Roberto's mouth. Roberto sucks on Cory's fingers, scrapes his teeth against his knuckles. 

Cory has his mouth around Roberto's cock again, as he slides a spit-slick - not nearly slick enough, it seems - finger into Roberto. He's tight, which isn't unexpected, but it is like a gut shot. 

"Motherfucking fuck," Roberto says, and it sounds like it is coming from far away, as he pushes back against Cory's finger. Cory is working another finger into him, more urgent this time, because oh fuck, if this wasn't driving him out of his mind. He swears his cock has never been as hard as it's been before, and Cory is quite sure if he's not buried inside Roberto soon he's going to die. 

"Fuck … Fuck, Cory … Fucking … _baiser_ …" And it sounds downright dirty, and hot as Cory's mouth goes down lower on Roberto's cock, and his fingers twist inside him. 

"Shit … oh, God, fuck me, Cory. Fuck me."

When Cory finally pulls his fingers out, Roberto hisses at the loss of contact, but he doesn't have much time to think before he's handing Cory the square foil packet, and is tugging Cory closer. Cory's hands are shaking so badly as he rips the foil, and really, he blames it on nerves, and Roberto rutting desperately against his thigh. He's not sure how or when Roberto manages to pass him the small bottle of lube, or when Roberto's hands are rolling the rubber down his cock, as his mind is foggy with need. All he can think about is how Roberto is kissing his jaw line, muttering _fuck me_ against his ear, and he slicks his hand with lube, before he presses Roberto away slightly. 

"Stop, or I won't be able to fuck you at all."

Roberto obeys, and wraps his legs around Cory's waist, as Cory lines himself up and pushes slightly, slowly, inside.

And, oh fuck, Roberto's tight around him. Cory stills, hands braced on either side of Roberto, mentally talking himself down, because oh fuck, if he didn't feel like he'd come the minute he moves again. 

"Quit fucking around," Roberto urges, and Cory finally moves, the feeling of Roberto surrounding him overwhelming at best. Roberto's sprawled out beneath him like some overpriced, decadent dessert. Cory manages somehow to curl his hand around Roberto's cock, as he shifts his hips, watching as Roberto swallows hard.

Cory bows his head, his lips searching desperately for Roberto's as he drives into him. 

Roberto comes first, one hand clutching desperately at Cory's back, the other gripping the back of his head. The feel of Roberto hot and sticky against his fist is the tipping point for Cory, and he comes. 

They're breathing hard, foreheads pressed against each other. Roberto weakly pushes at Cory's shoulders, until Cory pulls out of him, ties off the condom and tosses it in the trash. He lies down next to Roberto, and lets out his breath in a whoosh. 

"I told you I'd have you begging," Cory says. 

Roberto swats his leg. "I'm too tired to argue."

Cory shifts onto his side, and runs a finger along Roberto's arm. "Fair enough." He shifts closer, and lets his finger rest against Roberto's pulse point. "Do you want me to stay?"

Roberto's pulling back the sheets, and takes a hold of Cory's hand, tucking them both in. "Yes."

"Okay," Cory whispers, mouth pressed against Roberto's ear as he curls his body against Roberto's back. "I'll stay."


End file.
